That Good Night
by Padfoot24601
Summary: Very few people trusted James Potter as a dad. Sometimes he could understand why, but other times he thought after eleven years he was just beginning to get the hang of it. His son was alive, well-fed, washed, and did not hate him. However, with Hogwarts looming James was beginning to understand why some parents were so over-protective. AU.
1. In Which James Abandons His Child

**A/N:** **So recently I have been making myself cry by thinking about James and Harry as a father-son team. As such, I've decided to have a go writing it myself. Obviously there will be several questions about how they came to be in this situation, but all will be revealed as the story unfolds. For the most part this will follow James, as we kind of know what happens to Harry while he's at Hogwarts. I'm not 100% sure how canon divergent this will get but I imagine it will be more so as we get further into the story.**

 **Enjoy :)**

That Good Night

Mr Potter of Puddletown, Dorset lived a perfectly extraordinary life, thank you very much. He owned an extraordinary house, which received extraordinarily longwinded letters of complaint from the parish council about his out of control garden and climbing ivy. His teapot whistled at extraordinary times, such as when somebody put too many teabags in it or walked through the back door and he had an extraordinary collection of moving photographs, most of them portraying an extraordinary lady with long red hair and vibrant green eyes. He held an extraordinary job as an Auror for the Ministry of Magic and he could do the most extraordinary voices when reading a storybook at bedtime. Most importantly he had an extraordinary son called Harry.

In that very moment he was arguing with his extraordinary son.

"But I don't want to go see the Dursleys!" Harry whined. He was stood across from James, his balled up fists barely visible beneath too long sleeves that James insisted he would grow into because that was what parents were meant to say.

"I don't care." James said, this time not even looking up from what he was doing. They had replayed this argument more times than either could count and now James was far more interested in getting the tomato sauce stain off the kitchen worktop.

"I don't understand _why_ I have to go see them."

"Because." James cringed at his own reasoning, having broken one of the first parenting rules he had set himself when Harry was born. _'Because what?'_ he could hear his younger self protest.

"It's not like they even like me, and neither of us like them."

Eager not to break another parenting rule, this time lying, James kept his mouth shut. However, his son was not deterred by his silence.

"Seriously, Dad, could you at least tell me properly why I have to go?" Harry's voice had steadied now and taken on a slightly pleading tone. James sighed and turned to face him.

"Look," he said, kneeling down so that their faces were level, "they're your Mum's only family. She never got the chance to make up with them so it's our job to do that for her."

It felt morally questionable to attempt emotional blackmail on a ten year old, but it was his final option. Harry looked down at his father's hand on his shoulder then turned his green eyes to James' hazel ones. "Fine," he said, defeated, "I'll go but I won't enjoy it."

James smiled gently, "I'd be worried if you did. Now, let's go see if you can beat me at chess yet."

As it turned out Harry could not beat James at chess yet, but he was losing less spectacularly with each succeeding game James would remark encouragingly. Harry wondered aloud if parents were not meant to let their children win at least occasionally to build confidence.

"Nah." James answered, "Parents only say they do that to get over the embarrassment of losing to ten year olds."

"So you genuinely missed that goal I scored against you yesterday?" Harry asked with an impish grin.

"Well there are exceptions to every rule. Like you said, I'm meant to build your confidence up."

They played another game of chess with Harry losing again. As a consolation for his impending trip to the Dursley's, James allowed Harry a half pint of butterbeer. Slowly the sky grew darker and conversation turned to Lily as it often did. They were midway through discussing Lily's talent, or lack thereof, at Quidditch when Harry asked a difficult question.

"Why did Mum and Aunt Petunia fall out?"

James shifted uncomfortably. They were sat on the living room floor; the abandoned chess set separating them. He picked up a knight before speaking.

"Your…your Aunt wasn't too big on magic." He began to explain. Harry thought this was rather obvious, having inferred from Petunia's previous reactions to his mentions of flying and talking mirrors that his Aunt was not a fan of the wizarding world. "And your Uncle doesn't particularly like it either so they really just encourage each other. I don't know if you've noticed, Harry, but they can be quite disagreeable when they don't like something."

Harry returned James' smile then continued with his questioning, "But _why_ do they hate magic so much?"

"Well Vernon just seems to hate anything that isn't to do with golfing, work, or complaining, so that's his reason."

"What about Aunt Petunia?" Harry pressed.

James pondered for a moment then began to speak slowly, "I don't know. I suppose, I mean I've always suspected, that she was jealous. You know because your mum got to go to this wonderful school and have all these adventures while she just stayed stuck in Lincolnshire."

Harry nodded. He too would be rather jealous if he were Petunia Dursley. It would be like Neville Longbottom getting to go to Hogwarts in September and he, Harry, having to stay at home. He shuddered slightly at the thought, having heard such wonderful tales about the castle from his father and his Uncle Remus.

After bidding James a goodnight Harry went to bed with thoughts of Hogwarts pushing his dread of the next day out of his mind.

James laid in bed with similar thoughts, though the prospect of Harry going to Hogwarts in less than two months only added to his growing sense of unhappiness.

The next morning Harry entered the kitchen with an expression of grim resignation that was far too mature for a ten year old to have etched onto his face. By way of apology James had cooked a full fry up for breakfast but it did not stop Harry from looking like a soldier about to be court-marshalled. He sat in silence for much of breakfast, only giving one-word replies to James' forced cheery observations.

In the afternoon they arrived in Surrey via side-along apparition, something that James and Harry hated in equal measure but that was unavoidable due to the Dursleys' refusal to let James install a floo-powder accommodating fireplace.

"This is it." Harry remarked darkly under his breath.

"Come on, mate, it's only for one night." James said, trying hard not to laugh at the sight of a little boy wearing speaking with such an ominous sense of foreboding.

This did not appear to alleviate Harry's melancholia. "I can't believe you're abandoning me. I thought you loved me." He glared up at James from under his fringe.

"I'm doing this because I love you." James said quietly.

"No you don't. You wouldn't do this if you did." All talk of doing it for his mother seemed to have been forgotten.

James was beginning to grow bored of Harry's sulk. "You're too young to understand just yet. I'll explain to you when you're older." Another parenting rule broken.

Harry scowled. He loathed it when adults told him he would not understand, as though being ten made him stupid. He was about to retort but James had begun to steer him to Privet Drive by the shoulder and had that look on his face that meant he would start getting snappy if Harry pushed it.

Once they were at number four, Privet Drive they stood staring at it for several moments. James told himself it was to let Harry calm down before going in but in truth it was just as much for his own benefit. It would not do to lose his temper with Vernon Dursley. Even an Auror would be prosecuted for hexing a muggle, no matter how much said muggle was asking for it.

Finally James clapped Harry bracingly on the shoulder. "Right," he said, "let's go do this."

James knocked, careful to use the doorknocker because Petunia had specifically told him not to for fear of it scuffing the paint beneath. As they waited for signs of a skinny figure to come rippling towards the glass, Harry tried not wrinkle his nose at the prospect of a full night with the Dursleys.

The door was prised open almost tentatively to reveal a tall, horsey woman clad in peach. Petunia Dursley greeted them stiffly, lips pursed, and asked them to take their shoes off before they stepped inside.

She led them through to the neatly ordered living room where her beefy husband and wobbly pink son were stood side-by-side. James wondered dryly if Petunia had told her family to stand dead in the centre of the room so as not to mess up the symetricality of it.

"Potter." Vernon Dursley growled, holding a ham-like hand out.

"Vernon." James replied, grasping it with his own much slimmer one. Vernon pulled away almost immediately as though scared of catching magic from James. On his part James was incredibly tempted not to let go of his hand and keep holding it to see just how much Vernon would panic. Instead he turned to the Dursley's son, "Hello, Dudley," he said, offering his hand.

"Hello, Mr Potter." Dudley shook James' hand before either of his parents could stop him. Honestly Dudley could not fully understand why he was meant to hate Mr Potter. He knew his parents could not stand James but Dudley personally quite liked that he always shook Dudley's hand like a he would a grown-up's.

"Pot – Harry." Vernon said with a nod in Harry's direction.

"Durs – Uncle Vernon." Harry replied, about to add a similar jerk of the head before he caught James' eye.

With the pleasantries over the little group stood with nothing but dead air passing between them. James began to fidget.

"Right, erm, Harry why don't you and Dudley go up to Dudley's bedroom and play while I talk with your Aunt and Uncle?"

Vernon bristled at that man ordering his son about in Vernon's own house but bit his tongue at the warning glance that Petunia sent him.

"I'll come up before I go." Assured James.

The boys trooped upstairs. Harry thought it rather rich of his dad to insist that Harry make an effort with his mother's family when he himself would be leaving almost immediately. They soon stood awkwardly in Dudley's massive bedroom, which was littered with toys that Harry had never seen before. It was the only part of the house he could stand, not being disconcertingly clean and neat like the rest of it. Still, just because he did not hate it did not mean he liked it.

Dudley regarded his cousin with a mixture of suspicion and interest. His parents had told him to be careful around Harry because he was apparently dangerous and disturbed but to Dudley he appeared entirely harmless, if a bit weird and weedy. In fact he looked as if one strong gust of wind would blow him away. Actually Dudley secretly hoped that one day the wind would blow Harry away. His parents were always very on edge and prone to scolding during Harry's yearly visits.

"Okay," said James once he heard Dudley's bedroom door close, "I think you know what chat we're about to have."

"Yes, Potter, we already know. You don't have to remind us." Vernon snarled. He was eager to get the wizard and his magic out of Little Whinging before the neighbours noticed.

"Well it's nice to keep up with tradition, isn't it?"

Vernon knew better than to buy into his pleasant tone. Potter would use his – he hated to even think of the word - _wand_ on the lot of them given the chance.

"If I hear that either of you are in anyway unpleasant to Harry, if you do anything to upset him, then I assure you that I won't be anywhere near the charming company that I usually am." James' tone was measured but there was an edge to his voice. Vernon let out an ugly snort, which went ignored. "And I don't want you saying anything about Lily," James continued, mainly aiming his speech towards Petunia, "unless it's to tell Harry how wonderful she was."

Petunia did not reply as she was too busy chewing on the inside of her cheek but she did meet James' eyes for a brief second.

Hardly fifteen minutes had passed before James came upstairs to find Harry and Dudley sat in silence as they watched Dudley's toy cars race around the track of their own accord. James was momentarily distracted by wondering how they did so without magic before he beckoned Harry over to him.

"Hey, come here for a moment."

They stood in the hallway.

"You're leaving me, aren't you?" Harry asked glumly.

"Afraid so, mate. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll have a decent time –"

"I won't."

"-If you just try –"

"I refuse."

"- And the Dursley's will be nice – "

"They won't."

"- And I love you – "

"I feel like you don't."

"- And I'll be back tomorrow afternoon to pick you up."

"Can't you come sooner?"

James ruffled Harry's hair, "No, sorry but I have work. I promise I'll try to get out early, though. I love you."

Harry did not reply.

"Come on, what are you meant to say now?"

"I want to go live with Remus."

James laughed, "I don't think he'd take you."

"Fine," Harry relented, "I love you too."

They hugged and Harry squeezed so tightly that for a moment James thought he would never let go.

"Goodbye, Dudley." James called, poking his head through the door.

Dudley hardly looked up from his racetrack as he replied, "Bye, Mr Potter."

"Bye, mate."

"Bye, Dad."

James offered Harry one last encouraging smile, which was met with a solemn look, before leaving.

Harry sighed and, once he heard the front door shut behind his father, resigned himself to a miserable night.

For the most part the rest of the day went without argument. At dinner Uncle Vernon asked Harry about school but mainly just used his answers as an opportunity to show off how much better Dudley was. Aunt Petunia said very little, only choosing to speak when Harry did something particularly abhorrent such as let gravy drip from his plate onto the table cloth or place his knife and fork on the plate at the wrong angle.

In an attempt to keep the amount of time Harry and his magic spent in their house to a minimum, the Dursley's had decided to move up Dudley's birthday trip to the zoo by several days. Dudley did not mind as he knew that he would likely get to do something even better on his actual birthday, so in effect was getting two celebrations.

Harry himself was quite excited. He had loved it when James had taken him to the zoo and was hopeful that the Dursley's would continue their habit of leaving him to his own devices once out of the house. The only issue was that Dudley's friend, Piers Polkiss, would be accompanying them. Dudley was manageable by himself – generally he struggled to string too many words together to bother Harry – but around his friends he became downright horrific. Hopefully this time Harry would not end up half way up an oak tree in an attempt to avoid them.

No, he would not. After all, he was nearly eleven now - far too old to be letting accidental magic get the better of him.


	2. In Which Remus Does Something

**A.N. Lol yeah it's been ages since I posted. The last year has been a bit of a mess involving a stolen laptop, me moving back home, Donald Trump, and more.  
There were bits of the las chapter that I wasn't keen on so I've changed them and also added the beginning of the next chapter onto the end of this one. Also idk if you've noticed, but I literally name these chapters like thirty seconds before I post them. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter but I do own framed photograph of an ALDI sign so who's the real winner here?**

In Which Remus Does Something

Bright shapes passed in front of James' eyes. Only a moment ago he had been playing quidditch for England, but now he was stood in a black void which was empty save for the strange, flashing shapes. A pink triangle loomed into view and began to speak in a deep voice.

"James, James, James, James – "

"Fuck!" James' eyes snapped open and suddenly a large, bald black man was looming over him.

"Tired, James?" asked Kingsley Shacklebolt, a smirk playing across his lips.

"Tired? No I'm wide-awake, mate. Just resting my eyes." Said James through the yawn he was failing to stifle.

Kingsley nodded, "Yes. I too sometimes find that I work better after resting my eyes for half an hour."

"That long?"

"We've been throwing paper balls at you to see if we can wake you up." Kingsley gestured to the scrunched up pieces of parchment that littered the floor around them. "Even Scrimgeour joined in. I must say the man has very good aim."

James groaned. It was a fact known throughout the office that Rufus Scrimgeour, head of the Auror department, did not like James. Honestly he was surprised that Scrimgeour had settled for only throwing parchment at him and not something slightly larger like a brick or a trainee Auror.

"Don't worry. He's upstairs arguing with Fudge now so I imagine he'll have forgotten about it by the end of the day."

"Scrimgeour never forgets, Kings." James muttered. "What is he arguing with Fudge about, anyway?"

"The usual. He doesn't think Fudge is taking the department seriously enough."

"Of course. Hopefully Fudge will keep him arguing until after I've gone. If Scrimgeour comes down I'll pay you to lie and say that Fudge called us his 'personal security guards'. What time is it, by the way?"

"Nearly five, why - ?"

"Shit!" cried James, "I was meant to pick Harry up half an hour ago!" He jumped up and pulled his robes on.

"James if Scrimgeour comes back and you're gone I'm pretty sure he'll murder you." Kingsley said.

"Oh he'll have to beat my son to it first!" James said, trying to run out of the office with one arm in his jacket hood rather than the sleeve.

He apparated into the Dursley's back garden, knowing he should not have done so in plain sight but hoping that it would give the neighbours something to talk about. _Did you see that man in Petunia's garden? You don't think she's having an affair, do you? Or maybe Vernon is!_ Not wanting to antagonise his in-laws too much he took his Auror robes off and carried them over his arm.

Immediately James became aware that all was not well in the Dursley household. For instance, there was a lot of shouting. Furthermore he could see Vernon Dursley gesticulating wildly in the living room. For a moment James found the scene intensely funny, the image of Vernon's puce face contorting in rage while he raved about some heinous crime – likely he had seen a man with hair past his ears or something – being something he would think about whenever he was sad. However as he got closer to the kitchen window he noticed the target or Vernon's ire: Harry.

An anger to rival Vernon Dursley's surged through James and he bounded forward, using his wand to open the back door with a little too much force.

"What the hell are you doing, Dursley?" he yelled. Harry's entire body loosened with relief at the sight of his father.

Vernon spun to face James with surprising speed. "Oh ho!" He exclaimed, " _Now_ you decide to come back! I bet you set him up to this, didn't you? Hm? Didn't you!"

"What are you even going about, you idiot?"

"You told him to use his – his – _magic,"_ Vernon spat the word, "On our Dudley!"

James' eyes followed Vernon's hand, which was pointing to a sopping wet and shaking Dudley wrapped in a blanket. Petunia Dursley stood with her arms wrapped protectively around him.

"Your boy made the glass disappear – the _glass!_ So that our Dudley and his friend would fall through and get trapped with the snake! You're all the same, aren't you, your lot. All of you! Malcontents, drains on society, delinquents, socialists –"

"There's no need to shout, Dursley, I can hear you fine. In fact I could hear you from outside." Vernon paid no attention and carried on his slew of insults. "Which means that the neighbours can hear you."

Petunia's eyes snapped up. She looked stricken. "Vernon. Vernon, the neighbours can hear!" she hissed.

Vernon went silent but his mouth continued to move so that for a moment James feared that he had accidentally used a silencing charm. Vernon regained himself, however, and began to speak in a stage whisper.

"I never want that boy in my house again. The trouble Petunia and I have gone through, looking after him. These yearly visits shall have to stop. We are good people and this is what we get? Murder attempts!"

James wanted very much to punch Vernon Dursley or at least get some sense into that thick skull. "Don't be so stupid. Harry didn't try to murder Dudley. Likely there was a fault with the glass or something," he lied, "And if it were my choice Harry would never be stuck with you again. However, it isn't my choice." James spoke to Petunia, as he often did when trying to make a sensible point. "Remember what he said to you, Petunia."

Petunia's eyes were scrunched shut and she looked as though she was trying very hard not to hear what James had said. She took a deep breath, though, and with her eyes still shut said, "It's not up to us, Vernon." She sounded like she was in incredible pain but her voice was firm.

Before Vernon could recommence his tirade, James grabbed Harry by the hand and pulled him into the dining room where he apparated back to Acorn Cottage as quickly as possible.

"That man!" James exploded once they were inside, "That odious moron of a man! Really? _Murder attempt?_ How dare he! I'm tempted to go back there right now and hex him into oblivion –" He was just getting into the swing of his rant when he noticed that Harry was staring at the floor, completely silent. He seemed somehow to have shrunk. "I – Harry?" Harry sniffed. James knelt on the floor and took his son's tearstained face in his hands. "Harry, don't take any notice of what Vernon said back there. It wasn't your fault. I'm sorry, if I'd have known I'd have come to get you straight away.

"Do you want to explain to me what happened?"

They sat together on the floor as Harry told James everything about the zoo. He explained how Dudley and his friend Piers were being nasty to him all day and how he had begun to trail behind because Petunia had warned him against being attention seeking even though he was not being. Harry began to cry at this point so James made a tissue shoot out of his wand and dabbed at his eyes. "Here, shh, come on. It's okay." Once he had calmed down Harry went on to tell James about the snake who was sad and wanted to escape and how Dudley had pushed Harry out of the way to get a better look. It was then that the glass to the exhibit had disappeared and Dudley and Piers had fallen through while the snake slithered off. Dudley and Piers, however, did not get out from behind the glass so easily.

"You're not mad, are you?" Harry asked nervously.

"Of course I am! What Dursley was saying, I –Oh." James stopped. Something about Harry's face told him he was not quite right, "Oh, you think I'm mad with you?" Harry nodded. "No, of course I'm not! Harry, what you did couldn't be helped. Accidental magic happens to the best of us. It'll get easier once you're at Hogwarts. To be honest," he smiled furtively, "I think it was actually pretty funny."

A large knot that Harry had not even noticed unravelled in the bottom of his stomach. When he thought about it James was right – it had been quite funny to see Dudley and Piers with their faces pushed up against the glass. Harry had wanted to write a new sign to explain that the cage contained the lesser-spotted Surrey Pig-In-A-Wig-Boys, often seen in orange knickerbockers. He gulped one last time and returned his father's grin.

However, something caught in James' mind.

"Harry," he asked, "How did you know the snake was sad?"

"He told me." Harry shrugged.

James froze. He felt his heart judder and quicken. "You mean he spoke to you?"

The sudden hoarseness in his voice set Harry on edge. "Yes…" he replied, "I-is that normal?"

"I…yes – no –yes." James felt panic rise in his throat like bile. "I mean yes, it is normal. Just uncommon." Seeing Harry's worried eyes James tried to clear the fog of fear from his mind. "Don't worry, there's nothing bad about it. You never know how magic is going to work, do you? We all have different abilities. Did you know that Remus has a particular affinity for kestrels?"

He hoped the joke would allay Harry's fears but instead Harry's eyes had narrowed. He was about to start asking questions.

"Anyway, why don't you go changed into your Quidditch robes and see if you can score more than one goal against me yet."

"We'll see, old man." Harry grinned and shot off up the stairs.

"And remember: knee pads!"

Once Harry was out of sight, James set about writing a hurried note to Remus.

 _Harry trapped Dudley Dursley into a cage with a snake – v. proud of him._

 _Harry also spoke to the snake – not sure how to feel about that._

 _You're having dinner at mine tonight. Come for 6-ish._

 _\- James_

He approached Dave, his perpetually disgruntled tawny owl, with caution. Dave was prone to biting anyone who tried to make him actually do his job. As James tied the letter to Dave's leg, Dave lunged at James' fingers, leaving a deep gash on his index.

"You'd make a brilliant stew, you know."

Although James would deny it, it turned out that Harry could score a goal against him - several, in fact. He took this as a sure sign that middle age, followed by old age and then death, was creeping up on him

Upon walking back into the cottage they found Remus Lupin stood awkwardly in front of the fireplace, inspecting a waving photograph of Lily and James on their wedding day. Remus was James' oldest friend and Harry considered him an uncle. He was tall and thin with thick, greying brown hair and lined face that somehow managed to still look young.

Upon noticing James and Harry he broke out into a smile.

"So Harry," he started, "what's this about you setting a snake on your cousin?"

Together James and Harry told Lupin the story, Harry focusing on the fact that it was not intentional, James on the fact that he wished it had been Vernon stuck behind the glass.

Remus nodded throughout the tale, face impassive.

"How did Vernon Dursley react to all this?"

"As well as expected." James said before beginning his rant about Vernon's tirade against Harry.

"Right." said Remus. "Well, I'm afraid I must excuse myself for a little while. Don't worry I won't be long. Start dinner without me."

With that he turned on the spot and disappeared silently.

"Harry, I've said it before and I'll say it again: Lupin is a very strange man."

"How come Remus doesn't make a noise when he apparates but you're really loud?" Harry asked, looking up at James with raised eyebrows.

"It's actually quite rude to ask as many questions as you do."

They were halfway through their dinner when they heard Remus shout, "I'm back!" from the front room.

"In the kitchen!" James yelled back, "Where did you even go?" he asked when Remus walked through. His hair was newly messy and his face flushed. "And why - ?"

"Oh wonderful, shepherd's pie! I love shepherd's pie." Remus interrupted. He was slightly out of breath.

"Remus, what have you done?"

"By the way I brought cake." He pulled a sticky, cling-film wrapped chocolate cake out of one his bottomless pockets. "Thought we could celebrate Harry's achievement – I mean that was really _some_ accidental magic! Quite impressive, really."

"Remus. Remus, what have you done?" James felt worry run over his body.

"I – what? Nothing." Remus' fork was halfway to his mouth. "I had to get the cake. I forgot the cake."

"And it took you nearly twenty minutes to find?"

"Yes. I lost it. Tricky little bastards, cakes can be."

Harry barely managed to suppress a giggle at the sound of an adult swearing so nonchalantly in front of him. However, something did not add up.

"You tore your robes trying to find a cake?" he asked, pointing at the rip near Remus' collar.

Their eyes met. During the nineteen-seventies and eighties Remus Lupin had been one of the most skilled spies that the Order of the Phoenix had ever seen. Right now, in the nineteen-nineties, Remus was being caught out by a ten year old.

"Yes." He said steadily.

"You went to the Dursley's, didn't you?" James said.

"Yes."

James groaned. "What did you do?"

Remus looked down at his plate. "Well let's just say that Vernon Dursley will be spending a lot of money on shaving foam and razors for a while."

Both Harry and James laughed, though James felt a niggle of worry about how the Dursley's would be when Harry visited the following year. It was not long before their dinner was finished and Remus was insisting that he tidy. Afterwards Harry finally beat James at chess with the help of Remus' whispered instructions.

Eventually Harry was forced up to bed and two glasses of Firewhiskey were brought out.

"So," Remus asked casually, "What's this about Harry being a parselmouth?"

"That's it basically. Harry's a parselmouth." Said James simply.

"Yes, well, I guessed that." Remus replied. "But do you want to elaborate at all? What do you think it means?"

James puffed his cheeks and exhaled deeply. "Harry says the snake at the zoo told him that it was unhappy or something. I don't know what it means, though. I mean, they say Voldemort himself was a parselmouth…" he trailed off, too scared to finish the thought niggling in the back of his head.

"I'm not sure what that would have to do with Harry being one." Remus said, "Apparently parseltongue is hereditary and last I checked neither you nor Harry were Voldemort's illegitimate son."

"God no." James said, laughing slightly into his firewhisky.

"You don't know if there are any parselmouths in your family, do you?"

"No, and there isn't really anyone left to ask. I think I'd have been told anyway. I know my family were all proud Gryffindors but they were never the type to have any hidden skeletons." James paused for a moment and felt the niggling come back , "I just feel like the only connection I can make is with Voldemort."

"James, we don't even know if he _was_ a parselmouth."

"I suppose."

There was a moment of silence as they both sipped their drinks. There was a palpable panic in the room, the type of low-level anxiety that James had felt ever since becoming a father.

"Maybe you should talk to D-"

"No." said James harshly. "I'm not going to go running to Dumbledore."

Remus rolled his eyes, "I know you're not a fan," he began, ignoring James' snort, "but if anyone's going to have any good ideas it's him."

"Oh yeah, he's _full_ of good ideas isn't he? His idea to dump Harry with the Dursley's without even asking me was a real corker. Jesus Remus, you think the sun shines out of his arse!"

"You don't need to take it out on me." Remus said coolly. "I won't pretend that Dumbledore is perfect, but I also won't act as though he isn't the cleverest man we know. And, for the record, if it wasn't for Dumbledore then I wouldn't even be sat with you right now. I owe a great deal to him."

James felt his cheeks burn with shame. In his anger, no doubt stoked by the firewhisky, he had forgotten about Remus' great respect for Dumbledore – respect that was admittedly deserved.

"I'm sorry, mate, I'm just…"

"Worried?"

"An idiot."

"Well, yes, you are an idiot but not for what you just said." Remus said with a small smile.

Without looking into his friend's eyes James said, "Yeah, but still. I shouldn't get so snappy."

Remus shrugged, "You're worried about Harry, of course you're going to get snappy."

Once again they slipped back into silence, though it was more comfortable this time. As he refilled their drinks, James sneaked a look at Remus. He looked even shabbier than usual, his robes sporting several new patches since James had last seen him. The dark circles under his eyes were deeper than ever and he looked even thinner than usual.

"Everything's okay with _you_ , isn't it mate?" he asked.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?" Remus said, starting to look uncomfortable.

"I was just wondering." James said quickly. They looked at each other for a moment, daring the other one to push the subject further. "Have you had any work recently?"

"I think I have something next week. Just a small job." Said Remus trying to match James' casual tone.

"And this small job involves…?"

"Me providing goods and services in return for money." Remus replied. He suddenly appeared to be very interested in the pattern on one of James' cushions, tracing it repeatedly with one long finger.

"Remus," James said slowly, "this job is legal, isn't it?"

Remus took a moment to respond, "Well, it isn't _illegal._ "

"Remus." James groaned, "Please don't do something stupid."

"I'm pretty sure it's meant to be _me_ who tells _you_ not to do something stupid, not the other way round." Remus said, chuckling.

"Yes. Exactly. Now please start being sensible again so things can go back to normal."

They smiled at each other before Remus spoke again. "Don't worry. I've looked into the job - asked about a bit – and I'm pretty certain that I won't technically be breaking any laws. It's all legitimate."

"If everything's legitimate then why won't you tell me exactly what the job is?"

"Ah James, I'm giving you plausible deniability for when you're being questioned in front of the Wizengamot."

James scowled. "Well just try to stay out of prison for Harry's birthday. Your incarceration might put a damper on the celebrations."

"I'll try." Remus said drily. "What are you doing for his birthday, actually?"

James blinked, "Oh, erm, I thought just Diagon Alley. His Hogwarts letter should have arrived by then and I promised we could get supplies. He's desperate to start reading, the little nerd." He smiled fondly, "Anyway, Hagrid's coming too and I'd like you there. Safety in numbers and all that."

"You sound like Mad-Eye Moody." Remus laughed.

James, however, did not smile. Instead he took a long sip of firewhiskey and looked away.

Perhaps realising that James was not in a joking mood, Remus set his glass down and began to look annoyingly understanding. "Nothing is going to happen down Diagon Alley, you know."

James sighed, "I know, I know. I just like to be safe.

Remus nodded with an expression of maddening empathy on his face. Instead of talking further, James stood up and busied himself with choosing a record. For as long as he remembered, James had always hated being sat in a silent room.

"So," he said, pouring two more firewhiskies, "What do you think Puddlemere's chances in the league this year?"


End file.
